


You're writing lines about me; romantic poetry.

by stuckyinlove



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Steve Rogers, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Gay Steve Rogers, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Writer Bucky Barnes, Writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckyinlove/pseuds/stuckyinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But Bucky only had to politely say that he's having a writer's  block and Sam let him attend few meetings and get the idea. And he also had to promise that yes, he would respect this stories and no, he will not write a sequel to his last YA novel (which has been a great success, might even be made into a big budget movie).</p><p>So now Bucky’s here and he tries his best to look good but he just has that dishevelled appearance that he can’t help and he knows he doesn’t really fit in among these war heroes but seriously, why is everyone ignoring him? For God’s sake, he’s famous awarded writer.</p><p>And just as he is about to give up, a tall, blonde and gorgeous guy approaches him, hand stretched out, ready for a shake.</p><p>Bucky accepts it and locks his gaze on baby blue eyes. “Steve Rogers.”</p><p>“Bucky Barnes,” Bucky puts on a cocky smirk and runs his hand through his hair. </p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Bucky Barnes is writer and Steve Rogers is retired soldier and they meet at Sam's VA meetings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're writing lines about me; romantic poetry.

Here's a thing about Bucky Barnes; only thing he hates more than being criticized for his work, is being ignored. And now he's on the hall waiting for VA meeting to start and every time he talks to people, they ask him what he's here for and he tells them, and then they just walk away.

 

Four people started talking to him today and after only few minutes, they just went away from him. Some were more subtle that other, but still, awful. He is _James Buchannan Barnes_ and therefore, he’s used to people dying of wish to get close to him. When he walks on the street, people often notice him and ask for a ‘ _selfie_ ’ or simply ask him a few questions, about his work and his personal life. This summer has been quite interesting in terms of being recognized on streets so far. And now he’s stuck _here_ and he is being ignored.

 

He partly understands that war veterans don't like the idea of a young, ambitious writer basing his new novel on their tragic stories but really, he's doing them a favour. He has millions of sold books, they should feel honoured that someone as important wants to write down their stories and make it into a bestseller.

 

Now, that isn't exaggeration of any kind, he knows it, they know it. Sam wouldn’t accept his suggestion if he didn’t believe Bucky was great writer who can be trusted.

 

Sam Wilson is the one who holds the VA meetings and him and Bucky had met a few times, talked about war and the guys fighting for their country and whatever each of them believes in (Bucky personally doesn’t like the idea of war) and Bucky’s latest novel about young boy fighting aliens and saving the world while being torn between love and heroism (Sam hates YA novels with cliché plots).

 

But Bucky only had to politely say that he's having a writer's block and Sam let him attend few meetings and get the idea. And he also had to promise that yes, he would respect this stories and no, he will not write a sequel to his last YA novel (which has been a great success, might even be made into a big budget movie).

 

So now Bucky’s here and he tries his best to look good but he just has that dishevelled appearance that he can’t help and he knows he doesn’t really fit in among these war heroes but seriously, why is everyone ignoring him? _For God’s sake, he’s famous awarded writer._

 

And just as he is about to give up, a tall, blonde and gorgeous guy approaches him, hand stretched out, ready for a shake.

 

Bucky accepts it and locks his gaze on baby blue eyes. “Steve Rogers.”

 

“Bucky Barnes,” Bucky puts on a cocky smirk and runs his hand through his hair. He should probably cut it, it almost reached his shoulders, he thinks as he looks at blonde’s fluffy short hair.

 

“You’re new?” Steve raises his eyebrows and stares at him. _Yep_ , there’s that army posture as he awaits for an answer.

 

“Yeah- um, not really.” Bucky shrugs. “I’m a writer.” He says as if that explains everything and draws himself closer to Steve Rogers.

 

“A writer? Dude-“ Steve’s smile now widens and he chuckles under his breath. “I loved that piece of yours. Marcus Curtens is an odd name for a young New Yorker, don’t you think?”

 

Who the hell does this guy think he is? Bucky scowls at him and whispers, “Well, that’s why I named him that. You know, not everyone gets to be named something as boring as Steven.”

 

“Seriously, Steven?” Steve huffs a laugh and Bucky for a moment sees his perfectly aligned white teeth.

 

“Well, what’s your full name then, soldier?” Bucky rolls his eyes and drags his hand to his hips.

 

“Captain.” Steve smirks. “Steven Grant Rogers.”

 

Bucky drags his palms to cover his face and chuckles, impressed and slightly embarrassed that he teased the _captain_ of US army.

 

“Aw, pal. No hard feelings.” Steve jolts his head just as Bucky uncovers his face.

 

“And just so you know, that name is brilliant, it has historical meaning and if you knew anything about ancient Romans, you’d think I’m genius for bringing it up for such a, at first sight, cliché novel.”

 

“You had yawning me at historical.” Now he must be joking, Bucky thinks, but Steve in his old fashioned boring plaid shirt and brown pants looks as serious as it gets.

 

“Don’t mock the art.” Bucky huffs, offended and decides that it’s time he starts ignoring people. He most definitely doesn’t want to be a diva, but _come on, show man some respect._

 

“Oh, on the contrary,” Bucky hears Sam’s voice approaching. “Steve himself is an artist. You can discuss is all over the cup of coffee, but later. Meeting begins in, like,” he looks at the wrist watch “now.”

 

Everyone makes their way into the room and takes their place. Room itself is not much, mostly empty white walls with chairs sat in a circle. Everyone knows where they’re seated at and Bucky patiently waits until he can take one chair for himself. It leaves him three choices, between a redheaded elder man and pale, blonde woman who rolled her eyes earlier when Bucky told her that he was a writer or between Sam and a young, black man in wheelchair or curly-haired, middle-aged woman who wouldn’t stop cracking jokes at friend next to her and well, Steve Rogers.

 

The choice is pretty hard, Steve or Sam? Despite that being next to Sam would mean he's in his comfort zone, Bucky chooses sitting next to Steve and nervously pays him a few quick glances as Sam starts talking.

 

Sam begins by introducing him (“This is James Buchannan Barnes”), which Bucky preferred he hadn’t done, because that makes him stand up and awkwardly wave to everyone. “I believe I’ve mention on the meeting earlier this week that a writer would be joining us. After he has written a several successful novels, he now wants to dedicate his next piece to real life heroes fighting for our country. He will be listening to us and then, well, we’ll see.” Some of them look like they approve what’s happening and some start protesting.

 

“What the hell? This is supposed to be private.” Woman next to him stands up, both of her arms falling in the air. “I am not talking with someone who has no idea what it’s like for us. Especially if they want to make all this public.”

 

Bucky understand. _He really does._ But that doesn’t stop him from scowling at her. She’s rude and Bucky takes no shit. Just as he’s about to stand up, Steve Rogers notices it and grabs his arm, keeping him down. Steve leans in and whispers, “Try not to react. Let Sam do what he does best.”

 

All eyes are on them as Steve drags back to his seat and reassuringly smiles. As Steve had promised, Sam starts talking. “James is a good man and a good writer. He won’t write anything that you don’t want him to. He will just try to capture things that have happened to all of you and he won’t diminish nor indulge your stories.” He looks right at Bucky, and Bucky nods. “I trust him and I hope you will, too. Give him a chance at this one meeting, read something of his, although I do not recommend the latest hit” Bucky quietly laughs at this _supposed-to-be_ joke, “and then, if you still feel uncomfortable with him around, he will leave.”

 

The woman sits down and suspiciously look at Bucky but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to seem pushy so he doesn’t say anything to her, or anyone, and looks in front of him as they talk. That part is hard for Bucky who is used to lead conversations and be centre of attention with his witty, often mean jokes.

 

They talk about little but good things that have happened to them over the past week and they talk about what they’re proud of. They discuss some games and events that occurred over the past week and some of them don’t talk at all but just glance around, listening, Steve being one of them. He just doesn’t seem like he’d be uncomfortable around people and Bucky can’t help but wonder if it has something to do with his presence or not.

 

But when meeting’s done and Steve rushes past him to the exit, Bucky’s almost sure it is him. His presence to a place this people take as a safe haven must be unsettling and he gets it, but doesn’t yet decide to give up on this.

 

He says his goodbyes to Sam and leaves.

 

* * *

 

 

Here’s the other thing about Bucky Barnes: the one thing he’s worse at than not trying at all is giving up. So he comes to the next VA meeting and the meeting after that. He doesn’t talk to anyone any of these times, but makes few jokes with Steve Rogers and chats with Sam about his progress on the new novel. People have accepted him, or at least they don’t mind his presence, and a huge part of them is actually excited to have someone as important as him is writing about them. They have said that it has them flattered.

 

He had started writing the novel on several occasions but he stopped and deleted it all and then started all over again several times. It all leads to some mysterious, young former soldier, captain of US army trying to recover from war and deaths. But then he stops because he doesn’t know a shit about Steve and Steve never consented to have main character based on him. That would be dumb and disrespectful on so many different levels that Bucky doesn’t even want to bother. Of course Bucky hasn’t told Sam anything about that. He just smiled and said “ _Oh, yes, the writing process is going great. So glad you asked._ ”

 

Really, it isn’t.

 

So after the next VA meeting at which some of the members talked about their nightmares and Steve looked as if he had something to add, but still kept quiet, Bucky decided to talk to him. Maybe propose him this idea to see if he’d be comfortable with it. Steve could talk to him about his life and things he’s been through and Bucky could write them all down.

 

So after one of the meetings, he approached Steve before the blonde even got the chance to escape and dragged him into the corner.

 

“I had something to talk about with you, Steve.” Bucky did his best to place soft smile on his lips, but he just wanted to fuck this guy with his tight white shirt exposing all the muscles. Or maybe push him against the wall and madly kiss him. _That’d be pretty great,_ Bucky thought.

 

“Yeah, we could.” Steve answered with one of those miraculous smiles and looked over Bucky’s shoulder. “There’s this café place near, we could go there.”

 

“Oh, that would be great.”

 

So they had gone to that place and on their way, Steve tried teasing about the name Bucky gave his character and mockingly said, “Why not Mark? Or Marco? Or whatever instead of Marcus and last name that oddly sounds like curtains.”

 

“Excuse you, am I supposed to name my next character Steve?” Bucky jokingly said and then remembered what it was they should talk about. “May I add, I didn’t want it to be hundred percent ancient Roman, but it comes from Curtius. He was a great war hero, for your information. I expected you to know about those,” Bucky talked and did his best to sound rather dirty as he added ”captain Steven.”

 

Steve laughed at him, but Bucky could swear that for one brief moment, he had the other man turned on. “You know that I’m joking, right? Mr. Famous writer, don’t be so offended.” Steve sniffed and backed away few steps. “Loosen up.”

 

Bucky decided to accept the whole joke about his bestseller and ignore the thing he wanted to talk about. He’s going to get to know Steve and then they could discuss something serious. Yes, that’s exactly what he’s about to do. And he will show him just how loosened up he can be.

 

“I beg your pardon? I’m the _the most_ loosened up person you’ll ever meet, buddy. Seriously. Let’s skip coffee and try clubbing.” Bucky raised his eyebrow at Steve, who threw him an amused glance and crossed his arms on his chest. He had hit the soft spot.

 

“Pal, do I look like type for that?” Steve huffed a laugh and pointed at the café, so they turned left. Just as he suspected, Steve was taking him to some hipster place he has never once heard of in his life. And don’t let him fool you, Bucky Barnes is a New Yorker, born and raised in Brooklyn.

 

“That’s what I scented.” Bucky theatrically sniffed. “Boring old man trapped in twenty-something year old body who has no slightest idea of what fun looks like.” Bucky was in his full mocking mode as Steve pushed their shoulders together for a second. “Steven.”

 

“Um, you call yourself _a Bucky_. How pathetic is that?”

 

 _“Ass-hole_ ,” Bucky sings and opens the doors of café, letting Steve go in first.

 

* * *

 

 

They got on pretty good and Bucky really liked Steve. Steve is funny and charismatic and has really amazing sense of humour – one that Bucky shared too. Also, Steve Rogers is gorgeous. That’s really obvious, just as sky is blue and grass is green, the fact says Steve Rogers is gorgeous. With his fluffy blonde hair and baby blue eyes that light up every time Bucky says something funny, Bucky can’t stop himself from giving him fond glances.

 

“So, how did you get into writing?”, Steve directs him a questioning look and Bucky just shrugs his shoulders and looks at his hand falling on his lap.

 

“It was pretty fucking obvious, you know. I was a kid and I wrote these little funny stories. Kids stuff, you know. Things in dreamed of. Such as children who are catching some criminals and solving mysteries, not that it could ever be possible in real world. Social workers don’t approve that.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “But kids dig that. And then suddenly I’m in high-school and I am writing really, smart philosophical short stories. I was fascinated with science so I wrote some science fiction and my teachers really loved my works, so I kept it up even on college where I studied engineering.

 

“And then I write this novel about boy without parents who has so much shit going on his life and they publish it. And people read it. And things haven’t stopped happening for me since then. I always end up writing something different, you may have noticed if you were reading mine novels, but I don’t have one genre. “ Bucky narrows his eyebrows.

 

“I still sometimes surprise myself, because I talk and words that come out of my mouth are often so sloppy and wretched and then I have a piece of paper and a pencil and boom, new universe happens.” He takes a sip of his latte and stares into Steve’s eyes. “And now I am writing about war and I haven’t even seen war. You get it? You all have stories and I’m trying to capture them and I just can’t.”

 

Steve rests his elbows on desk and leans closer to Bucky, “Do you want to write about what happens on battlefields or soldiers who bring war home with them?”

 

“I can’t seem to figure it out just yet,” Bucky admits admiring how Steve’s eyelashes leave shadows on his cheeks under this lightning. “I want it to be honest.”

 

“You should go for after war stories since you are listening to those at our meetings. Adjusting to civilian life. You can mention, um,” Steve licks his lips, as if unsure of what he is about to say, “ _nightmares_. And _fears_. You know, inability to reconnect to old lives. Or fear of reconnecting because people that once knew you, no longer know you. And then, boom, your life is gone and you have to figure out a new one.” Steve sadly smiles. “It’s what often happens.”

 

Melancholy creeps into Bucky as he wonders if that’s what has happened to Steve Rogers, captain of US army. Steve Rogers, who is also incredibly witty and has no shame when it comes to mocking. Or maybe Steve Rogers who confides himself to some stranger writer in a old, slightly hipster café amidst muted, slow 80’s music.

 

“You don’t have to use that one, tho.” Steve wrinkles his nose and brings his phone out of his pocket. “I should probably get going. It was a nice talk, pal.”

 

He softly smiles and just leaves, leaving Bucky to awkwardly wave and the night is suddenly over.

 

* * *

 

 

Here’s the third thing about Bucky Barnes, the one he is not so boastful about; he doesn’t have many friends. He doesn’t have anyone, to be precise. An orphan who makes his living out of satirically summoning up all of the world’s problems into bestselling novels never really knew how to keep people around.

 

Thankfully, there are few of those who managed to stick around and suffer his humour, such as Tony Stark who had always had same doze of unnecessary and mean comments as Bucky. Maybe even Natasha Romanoff who had been his lover a lifetime ago and now they meet up every now and then simply to gossip about mutual acquaintances and have Natasha desperately try to set him up with people ( _“James, I know you’re not happy. You’re deeply unsatisfied with your life.” – “Shut up, Nat._ ” ). The poor woman is still failing miserably.

 

So now, when Tony Stark came to Bucky’s place on Wednesday evening, Bucky was more than surprised.

 

 

“Our buddy Sam tells me you’re writing a new novel, Barnes.” Tony smirks and rolls himself on black, leather couch. “Some deep shit this time.”

 

“So it seems.” Bucky huffs and pushes Tony’s legs off couch. “Stark.”

 

“Never thought to write about genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, ha?” He now sounds offended as he looks over at Bucky. “That’d be great idea for a novel, you know.”

 

“I bet.” He smirks and fills their glasses with wine. “I thought genius billionaire playboy philanthropist would have a novel written about him by now, you see, if he was as imposing as he believes he is.” Tony scowls at him. “Nope, cross that. I’d expect a fucking trilogy with no plot whatsoever, but one desperate scientist ranting about how great he is.”

 

“Man, you’re just implanting ideas in this brain of mine, you understand that?” Tony has now rested his legs at Bucky’s coffee table ottoman, that asshole, not every ottoman is made to have dirty shoes rest on it.

 

“Pal, maybe even when trilogy is done you could have a fourth book from Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist’s point of view. People dig that shit these days.”

 

“Can I kiss you?” Tony jokingly says but places a wet kiss on Bucky’s cheek as Bucky cries “Ew” and brushes his thumb over it. “And how’s the novel going so har?”

 

“I’m actually thinking about basing it on one man.” Bucky half-jokes. “He’s at least 5 inches taller than you and absolutely has better hair.”

 

“Now, you’re just being a little prick, Barnes.”

 

* * *

 

 

Here’s just one more thing about Bucky Barnes; he very easily develops crushes on the people most out of his reach. So it is now surprise at all that through these meetings, Bucky is focusing his attention towards Steve more and more by each meeting.

 

It’s already been two months since he first joined this group and he sees that people actually enjoy having him here. The woman that was first to protest against having him listening on them, Darcy, now just keeps pitching him ideas what he could write and to be honest, all he cares about is getting Steve’s story. That might be a problem since Bucky hasn’t mentioned any of that to Steve nor has he started writing the novel despite his deadlines. Deadline is not bad, his editor gave him a little time off, so the novel would have to be done only by spring but Bucky doesn’t like rushing.

 

They even made a sort of friendship, Bucky still desperately trying to catch his breath every time he looks at Steve and sees how gorgeous the blonde is. Their friendship includes nothing but brief talks before and after their meetings and they haven’t repeated that one night where they actually talked outside this room. They have inside jokes and mock at each other every chance they get, but neither of them has mentioned the time Steve told Bucky something important about himself.

 

So one day, when Bucky is walking downtown and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible with black sunglasses in the middle of October with no sun on horizon and notices Steve, he is startled.

 

Steve Rogers is sitting on a bench and he is, in fact, drawing. It's weird seeing him outside, with sun shining against his golden hair. So Bucky resets his glasses, smirks to himself and sneaks up behind Steve. Bucky Barnes vows to himself that’s just his inner asshole acting, not him, when he jumps in front of Steve and screams “BOO, I GOT YA!”

 

When Bucky looks at him, Steve looks terrified. His baby blue eyes wide open, skin pale. As if someone kicked the life out of him, Steve is trying to catch his breath. Bucky, who has expected for other man to laugh and tease, is pretty terrified too.

 

_Steve Rogers is having a panic attack._

 

“Fuck”, Bucky mutters under his breath and sits beside Steve, one hand picking up his chin so they’d have eye contact, other resting on Steve’s back. It’s fine. Bucky has been through this numerous times, only it had been Bucky having panic attacks after his parents had died.

 

“Shit Steve, I’m so sorry.” Bucky breathes out. “So fucking sorry. Should’ve known better.” He is crying out, as Steve is staring into him, desperately trying to breathe. “Steve, please, breathe with me, would you?”

 

Steve nods and Bucky is breathing in and out, in and out, as Steve follows his rhythm. He still has one arm on Steve’s chin, other is now dropped by his side and Steve is now almost calm, almost can breathe and they’re almost there. Bucky remembers that his sunglasses are still on his nose, so he moves them up on top of his head and looks straight into Steve.

 

“I’m so sorry for-” Steve breaks his gaze and looks down “ _this_.”

 

 _Dear Lord, is he serious_? That’s the most unnecessary sorry Bucky’s ever heard in his whole life.

 

“You are a goddamn punk, Steve Rogers.” Bucky notices his palm still cupping Steve’s chin so he drops it immediately. “You don’t go apologizing for panic attacks.”

 

“Sorry.” Steve tilts his head, cheeks pink. “Won’t happen again, promise.”

 

“It better not.” Bucky says, voice worn out. “I’m not letting you.”

 

“What, as if you could forbid me panicking?” Steve chuckles. “Gonna monitor me 24 hours a day only to make sure I do not repeat this?”

 

“For starters, I won’t be trying to make you shit your pants. As much as I love seeing people’s reactions, yours is ugly.” He draws his eyebrows together. “Fuck, pal, I didn’t know you had PTSD.”

 

Steve tenses up and looks down on his forgotten notebook, puppy running for a frisbee, perfectly captured movement, and lets out a tortured sigh.

 

How come it never once crossed Bucky’s mind? For God’s Sake, Steve had told him about his nightmares. Not directly, but he told how he struggles and now Bucky just can’t help the overwhelming sadness when he thinks how often this happens for Steve. How many times he’s had nightmare in the middle of the night, and God knows if Steve had someone beside him to calm him and cuddle him back to sleep.

 

So Bucky approaches him, as if they weren’t already inches away when Bucky was holding him and gives Steve most sincere look he can manage, “Do you mind coming at my place tonight? I know that’s not what we do, but we could watch a movie together.”

 

“I’d love that.” Steve admits then blushes. “We could go right after the meeting.”

 

“You should talk at those meetings, you know.” Bucky hates interfering into other people’s business but he got an impression they were becoming friends so he spoiled that. “They are meant for you to talk.”

 

“Nah,” Steve shakes his head, blonde strands of hair playfully jolting in the air. “I prefer listening how others manage through their struggles and then try to apply that on myself.” He bites the inside of his cheek and looks away. “It’s easier.”

 

“It’s not because of me? Making you uncomfortable? Cause I’d hate that.” Bucky says.

 

“God, no!” Steve protests and a huge weight falls off Bucky’s chest and he didn’t even know it had been there all along.

 

* * *

 

 

Here a thing about Bucky Barnes that Bucky is profoundly proud of; Bucky picks the best movies ever. And then watches them all alone, which is not as astonishing, but he’ll put that aside because tonight he has Steve Rogers over. And he is going to do his best to impress his new friend.

 

So after the meeting’s done and Bucky’s limo has taken them to his house (at what Steve scowled at), Bucky excitedly shows Steve his huge house and the backyard and then hurries him inside.

 

Bucky, being a gentleman his mother raised him to be, takes Steve’s coat and rests it on hangers, followed by dirty thoughts about ripping Steve’s tight shirt off and making him beg until he comes, at what his mother would slap him with holy Bible all over his pretty face.

 

“Are we watching a classic or something new?” Bucky looks over at Steve who is absorbing Bucky’s living room. It contains nothing but a black leather sofa full of white cushions, coffee table ottoman and a huge TV with speakers all over the room. Walls are fulfilled with various modern paintings, which Steve seems to be most fond of, and Bucky is reminded yet again, nothing personal except for one large bookshelf.

 

“You like art?” Steve’s dazed look follows one of paintings dating from impressionism, picturing some garden. Bucky loved that one, he bought it when he was touring in Paris with his second novel.

 

“Well, I am an artist.” Bucky clenchs his jaw, admiring that piece once again.

 

“Right.” Steve rolls his eyes and Bucky did his best to not act offended by this little shit. He really tried and focused on setting up his TV.

 

He has picked a dozen that they could watch and now that Steve’s here, he figured it’d be best if Steve choose one that he liked.

 

So Steve Rogers being Steve Rogers, happily announced that they should totally go with Roman Holiday. Now there’s something to mock about , Bucky decided as he bit his lip and shared amused glance with other man. “I gave you to choose between 12 movies, including Lion King and Harry Potter and you go for ‘50s version of Cinderella story. Dude, that’s so gay.”

 

“Gays do tend to act gay, Buck.” Steve stretched himself and collapsed on Bucky’s couch. “And isn’t Audrey Hepburn just lovely?”

 

“Yeah, guess she is.” Bucky sat himself on the other end of the couch and played a movie.

 

The movie itself was undoubtedly good, they don’t call it classic for a reason. There were moments that left Bucky laugh so hard, Steve had to throw him annoyed look and (“ _Stop being so loud, Buck. I’m trying to watch._ ”) and Bucky was fine with it, because he just enjoyed his new nickname.

 

By the time Roman Holiday has finished and credits started rolling, Bucky yawned and stretched out his arms as far as possible. Steve settled closer to Bucky and curled up with his huge arms wrapped around his legs. Bucky took a moment to appreciate just how gorgeous Steve Rogers is.

 

“We should repeat this.” Steve turns his head towards Bucky and rests his chin on one knee. “If you want to, of course.”

 

“ Sure I do. But next time, I pick.” Bucky winked and locked their eyes together. It would be so easy to kiss him, right here, right now.

 

“Pal.” Steve laughed and Bucky thought Damn, if this isn’t worth living for, what is. “I bet you’ll choose Lion King.”

 

“So what?” He scowled. “I bet you’ve never ever seen Lion King.”

 

“I have seen it and cried.” Steve confessed. “Not crying with your teasing ass.”

 

“I do not tease. I observe.” He stated matter of factly, which Steve found hilarious. “And real talk, I would never tease you for crying.”

 

“Which brings me back, when I saw you today” Steve blushed “sorry for that, by the way” and Bucky kicked Steve’s leg with his own “I never got to tease you for that diva look you’ve got going. Sunglasses on with no sun on horizon? Now that’s ridiculous.”

 

“You wouldn’t understand.” Bucky responded dramatically. “It’s a state of mind.”

 

“Hm.” Steve breathed out, dreamy look on his face. “Think I do.”

 

* * *

 

 

Steve Rogers was fucking fun, Bucky admitted after they spent next 4 Friday nights curled up together watching movies at Bucky’s place. First time Steve visited, Bucky tried so hard to impress him that he took a limo. Now they both laugh at that, as they ride on Steve’s motorcycle. Bucky likes it, especially when he has to lock his arms around Steve’s torso, and pretend that he is bothered by having to lean on Steve’s back.

 

These movie nights have had a great impact on their relationship. They went from watching a movie a night to watching 5 movies, none of them shorter than hour and a half. So by the time last movie was done and credits were rolling, both Steve and Bucky were long asleep.

 

Bucky never started writing an actual novel but instead, he has written a poem. A poem about Steve Rogers and his perfect eyes and adorable nose and fucking gorgeous lips and blonde hair falling into his face – yeah, he was screwed. He thought that if he had one secret that’s going down to grave with him, it’d better be the poem that was so pathetic that even Petrarca would scowl at it.

 

Bucky replaced his sexual fantasies with domestic ones, although he did fantasize about fucking Steve quite a lot. It was now that he’d bring him breakfast in bed and cuddle him up afterwards. And that terrified him more than anything.

 

So when at one of those meetings, Steve choose to talk and said, “Um, I think I’m happy right now where I am.” Bucky couldn’t help but grin and stare at him.

 

Steve jerked him head towards Bucky and questioningly looked at him, Bucky decided to bite insides of his cheeks and hold back a grin, because maybe Steve found someone else that made him happy. Someone who doesn’t mock his style and tease everything there is and makes terrible jokes.

 

So they went to Bucky’s and watched 5 movies of Steve’s choice and Bucky never said a word, trying his best to be respectful ( _“Jesus Christ, Bucky would you please stop making captain sound dirty. You should be impressed by my rank._ ”) and to be kind (“ _You’re such a jerk, Buck, has anyone told you so?_ ”). And the best version of nice Bucky is silent Bucky, so they spent night in silence, only few times interrupted by Steve’s comments such as “ _Yeah right, like that’s possible in real life”_ and _“Jesus, lady, you can save yourself, stop waiting for that douche_ ”.

 

Bucky really did his best to stay silent at those and bit back “ _Shut up, Steve. It’s the whole point of a movie. She can save herself but she doesn’t have to_ ”. Of two of them, Bucky had always been one to talk and criticize and Steve would nod and share approving sounds.

 

When Bucky woke up after that night, he found himself plastered against Steve. His face was buried in the back of Steve’s neck and his arms were wrapped around Steve’s torso, their legs intertwined. Bucky breathed in Steve’s smell and happily smiled against his neck.

 

Steve must’ve felt that since he left out a silent moan and clasped his palm against Bucky’s.

 

“What time is it?” Steve’s raspy voice turned Bucky on.

 

“Fuck me if I know.” Bucky slowly move his face away from Steve, which Steve recognized as a sign that he could toss and turn so they’d be face to face.

 

“Mhm, would prefer taking you on a date first.” Steve softly smiled and Bucky felt dazed. “I think we fell asleep last night.”

 

“No shit.” Bucky singed and run his fingers through Steve’s messy morning hair. “I’m making us breakfast.”

 

He used every last ounce of his strength to get himself up and away from sleepy Steve, who looked stunning.

 

* * *

 

 

They shared breakfast and Bucky did his best not to burn pancakes and Steve played games on his phone, ignoring “Wow, Steve. I was on 200th level of that one even before you knew it existed” before he remembered he had to be nice so Steve would like him better,

 

They had created their own dynamic and it was lovely until Bucky realized that he’d been treating Steve wrongly. Bucky just hoped he’d never have to introduce Steve and Natasha because then, he’d be doomed. He would never hear the end of “Why don’t you just kiss him? You’re great at that.”

 

“What’s your deal?” Steve furrowed his eyebrows and suspiciously looed at Bucky over his pancake and Bucky shrugged. “You stopped talking.”

 

“I’m sorta eating.” He murmured and bit the end of his pancake.

 

“You weren’t eating last night.”

 

“I was watching a movie. Five movies, to be precise.” He threw Steve one of his most scandalized looks and swallowed the pancake. “What, don’t want me to admire the art?”

 

“It’s not you.” Steve was now concerned. “I’m feeling slightly offended.”

 

“I thought my jokes were offending.” Bucky admitted and then blushed. “Whatever, Stevie.”

 

Steve cracked a laugh and they were back where they were before the meeting and that had Bucky grinning like an idiot Steve so often proclaimed him to be. “Great.”

 

“Great.”

 

* * *

 

 

Here’s one thing about Bucky Barnes that isn’t really about Bucky Barnes; it’s more about his friend Natasha Romanoff. She likes finding him dates and he hates her for that. But he wouldn’t tell her about his crush on Steve Rogers, if she tortured him. And she seems pretty capable of kicking his ass.

 

So when she came to his place right after he hidden last evidence of someone spending night on his couch and put two plates and two glasses into dishwasher, he was ready to roll his eyes.

 

“James, have I told you about one man I met at the gallery opening? He is lovely.” Oh, that tactic does no longer work on Bucky Barnes. “You two ought to meet.”

 

“Nat, how do I put this into words?” Bucky was emphasizing each word. “No. Fucking. Way.”

 

“James, please. I haven’t tried to set you up since that disastrous date in July and it’s November.” Natasha had her best endearing voice. “Only one more time.”

 

“This is the last one, huh?” Bucky admitted defeat and sighted. “Can I have his number?”

 

“I already set up the date.” She confessed, no shame in her voice. “I had to compel him too, so I kind of paid you dinner. See that as” Nat squinted her eyes “my final strike”.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that day Bucky texted Steve saying “ _You wouldn’t believe what I’m forced into_ ” and Steve being shit responded with “ _omg, your editor called and you have to start that novel asap_ ”.

 

It reminded Bucky of his deadline and how he should a) ask Steve about his character, b) base his character on something else or c) try with completely different theme, such as hopeless idiot in love which was familiar ground by now.

 

Bucky, just to be asshole, left their conversation at “ _seen_ ” and showered. No matter how much he hates blind dates, he would hate to come sweaty and smelly. He’d also embarrass Nat in front of her acquaintance and that’s plain rude.

 

So he threw on navy blue shirt and jeans that make his ass look spectacular, one of his better perfumes and tied his hair in a man bun. Not anyone can pull off a man bun, but Bucky Barnes sure can. And does.

 

He entered the Italian restaurant, said his last name and almost choked when waiter showed him his table with more than confused Steve Rogers.

 

“You!” They both yelled and gasped in disbelief, pointing fingers at the other one.

 

“Seriously, Steve!” Bucky collapsed on chair and covered his face with his palms. He was startled. Natasha really made him go on the blind date with Steve Rogers, who looked immaculate in white shirt and ripped jeans. “I’ve expected you to tell me when you have a date.”

 

“As if you told me” Steve rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink.

 

“Well, I tried to.” Bucky huffed and looked at Steve. “Natasha.”

 

Both men shrugged and then ordered. This meal was no different from their usual encounters but now Bucky couldn’t help but think about how even Natasha thought they’d make a couple and she hasn't seen them together. Not once.

 

“Steve, is it okay if I propose you this one idea? ‘s okay if you say no.” Bucky was slightly plastered, so worlds just slipped out of his mouth. “Listen. Novel based on you.”

 

“Bucky, I am really not the type of the guy people read novels about.” Steve sighted and clenched his jaw. “What would you even write about?”

 

“God, you have no fucking idea, Steve-“ He sits up straight in his chair. “You’re interesting. Intriguing. Funny. Honourable. You’re exactly what people read about. You have no idea, Stevie.”

 

“You’re drunk.” Steve softly smiled and looked at his empty plate. How was he not drunk when they both had been drinking? “So drunk, Bucky.”

 

Bucky looked at his friend. He often looked at him. Casually glanced, pretending that he didn’t saw the entire universe every time. Steve was so beautiful. Steve is so fucking beautiful _and he has no idea_. He’s so clueless and Bucky could just kiss him and maybe Steve would realize how special he is. How much he means to Bucky. Would that be out of line? Would Steve mind? Could Steve Rogers ever be attracted to Bucky Barnes?

 

"Is there a reason you keep staring at me? Besides being drunk?"

 

Bucky blinked and looked around, unsure whether or not he was imagining things. But Steve looked up, his baby blue eyes narrowed, and Bucky realised that, yes, Steve had asked him a question.

 

“I wanna kiss you.” Bucky blurted out, cheeks pink and dopey grin taking all over his face. “And write a novel about you.”

 

Steve pursed his lips. “You could,” he grinned and looked straight into Bucky’s eyes. “I wouldn’t mind.”

 

He got closer to Steve and whispered “I’m drunk.”

 

Bucky took Steve’s face in his palms and smashed their lips together. Steve let out a moan as Bucky parted his lips and smiled against the kiss. Steve lifted his hand on Bucky’s neck, pressing them even closer.

 

When they broke apart to gasp for air, Steve’s cheeks and lips were reddened and warmed and Damn, he so gorgeous.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky woke up, his body pressed against Steve’s, his hand clasped around Steve’s bare chest. He shut his eyes one more time, soaking up all the data from last night. He kissed Steve. Steve kissed him back. Steve took him to his place – then Bucky noticed, he’s never been here, only familiar thing in whole room is Steve – more kissing, they had sex. Steve tasted so good, so fucking good. Steve let him write novel about him. While they were having sex, Bucky whispered that poem. God, that part's pathetic.

 

Steve was breaking away from his sleep and clasped his eyes up, dopey grin on his pretty face as he glanced at Bucky.

 

Steve's eyes fluttered shut, raising his hands which he wrapped around Bucky's neck, running his fingers through the brown curls, tugging at them to deepen the kiss. Bucky squeezed Steve’s hips making him gasp, Bucky took this as an invitation to slid his tongue into Steve's mouth. Steve moaned into the kiss and willing let Bucky explore his mouth. When Bucky pulled away it was only because he needed air.

 

“Have you sobered up?” Steve moaned. “Do you regret last night?”

 

“I regret not kissing you earlier.” Bucky’s smile widened as he placed few quick, soft kissed against Steve’s jaw.

 

Steve laughed, his fingers stroking Bucky’s neck. “You’re dumb.”

 

“Learned from the best.” They kissed again and Steve sat himself on top of Bucky, leaning down to lock their lips again.

 

* * *

 

 

Here’s the last thing about Bucky Barnes. He adores Steve Rogers. Has been since he’d first made him laugh. He adores making Steve laugh. He adores that he can kiss him whenever he wants to. He adores when Steve calls him “baby” first thing in the morning. He _adores_ Steve Rogers.

 

Bucky took Steve’s hand in his own, interlacing their fingers. _Perfect fit_ , he remembers thinking, as they entered a small bookstore next to Bucky’s place.

 

Soon after they finally got their shit together and started dating, they decided to announce it at Natasha’s birthday party. Natasha screamed and made a toast, saying that _“I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday present, honestly. James and Steve, I’m so glad I introduced you two._ ”

 

Sam Wilson couldn’t help but interrupt, just to say “ _Uh-huh, I think I should take the credit. They actually met at one of my VA meetings_ ”. Natasha glared at them, looking scandalized.

 

Tony Stark, of course, wouldn’t be Tony Stark if he hadn’t used this chance to announce that _he_ is writing an autobiography called “ _A cheap trick and cheesy one liner_ ” which had everyone burst into laughter but Tony did publish his autobiography six months later.

 

Bucky was finally introduced to Steve’s group of friends which consisted of professional archer Clint Barton who loves cake, Thor, the most athletic guy Bucky had ever seen and Bruce Banner, clumsy scientist with anger issues. He had no idea how this random group of extraordinary people found each other but he liked the m immediately.

 

Bucky’s novel was called “The price of freedom”. It told the story of a man who left the war behind him and finally figured out who he is, when he isn’t a soldier. It took them many nights spent talking and going over what Bucky’s written. He used some of the stories people at VA meetings told and everyone was proud of this project.

 

Of course, not everything was perfect. There were nights when Steve would wake up in the middle of the night and have no idea where he is, unable to tell apart the battlefields on Middle East from their bedroom in New York. He even confessed that Bucky’s novels have been a huge part of his recovery, Bucky’s satirical ideas constantly making him laugh and reminding him that there’s still good in this world.

 

But they have managed it.

 

When they entered that bookstore with Steve’s hand in his and walked over to the bookshelf full of Bucky’s new novel, their novel for which Steve had done such amazing art, and Bucky finally let Steve see the dedication.

 

Steve picked up the first in his arm reach and excitedly opened the front page, as anxiety started to creep up inside Bucky.

 

Bucky stared at shield painted in the colours of American flag on front cover, as Steve read out loud.

 

“To all the heroes I had meet on VA meetings who have welcomed me,

to Sam who has introduced me to their world and made this novel possible

and to Steve; _I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, pal_.”

 

Steve teared up and smashed Bucky into one of his big, tight hugs, then kissed his forehead and whispered “I love you, Buck.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I worked for days on this one and it's the longest thing I've ever written. i'm usually done in few hours.
> 
> Sorry if there are any mistakes, feel free to correct me. I tried my best.
> 
> If you have any questions, my tumblr is avengeyoubucky :)
> 
> I didn't know this at fist, but after posting I realized this has been posted on the national coming out day which I think is great.


End file.
